Darkness Hunts

Chapter 2

Dorothy Hendricks lay on a table in the middle of the little room. She was naked, her body so pale and thin that I could count every rib. Though she wore no jewelry, something stuck out from her chest, slightly to the left of her breastbone. It took me a moment to realize it was a knitting-needle-sized piece of wood. She’d been staked.

And yet she looked at peace—her expression was serene, with a smile forever frozen on her lips.

Either she’d welcomed this death or she hadn’t realized exactly what was happening to her. Given what she’d claimed on the astral plane, I had to guess the latter to be true, especially since there was little in the air to suggest anything sexual had been going on.

My gaze went to the four-inch cuts on her wrists. She’d obviously been bled out, but there was no evidence of it on the floor underneath her. Which meant someone had collected her blood—or consumed it. Shivers raced up and down my spine. I really didn’t want to know what someone would do with that much blood, and I really, really didn’t want to meet someone who could consume that much.

“We had time left,” I said, my voice flat despite the anger that surged through me. “But he never intended for us to save her. He was just playing games.”

“Perhaps, but this death was meant to be.”

As Azriel spoke, the gossamer shape of Dorothy’s soul rose from her flesh. She looked happy and content, offering her hand without qualm to the white-haired, white-winged reaper who suddenly appeared beside her body. It really didn’t surprise me that she’d chosen the more traditional version of the reaper. Despite her words on the astral plane, there’d been nothing out of the ordinary to be seen in her house. Certainly nothing that suggested she liked her life to be anything other than vanilla.

So why had she become a vampire?

I watched them walk onto the gray fields and disappear, then glanced at Azriel. “Why would a woman like Dorothy be the target of someone so dangerous? She may have been a vampire, but if the information Stane uncovered is to be believed, she was harmless in every other way possible.”

“Perhaps it was nothing more than a weak astral spirit unwittingly attracting a darker soul.”

“Perhaps.” The image of the faceless man ran through my mind, and I shivered again. He’d called me a huntress, but he’d been the one hunting, not me. “But I have lata suspicion that his choice of victim was deliberate, not one governed by chance.”

“Yet he offered you the opportunity to save her. Even if that was never to be, it seems an odd decision for one who takes no chances.”

“I know.” My gaze swept Dorothy’s body and came to rest on her calves. Cuts ringed them both, the wounds gaping. I frowned. “Why would he cut her tendons like that?”

“There is a belief in some cultures that cutting the tendons in the legs prevents the soul from rising.”

And he’d staked her because she was a vampire. “Then why bleed her out? It seems a little overboard.”

“Perhaps he merely wished to be triple sure of his kill.”

“Perhaps.” I scanned the concrete again. Azriel had said earlier that he’d sensed magic, but there was little indication of it. No protective circle, no candles, nothing that in any way suggested there was ever a practitioner here.

“What do you wish to do now?” he asked.

“What I wish to do is go home, eat the biggest steak I can find, have a long soak in the bath, then catch a week’s worth of sleep.” I grimaced and dug my vid-phone out of my pocket. “What I have to do, however, is ring Uncle Rhoan.”

His expression, when he answered, was resigned. “So tell me where the body is.”

A wry smile touched my lips, although—sadly—his presumption was all too correct. Most of my calls to him of late had been about the dead or the about to be dead. Still, I couldn’t help saying, “Hey, I might just be ringing to say hello to my favorite uncle.”

He snorted softly, amusement crinkling the corners of his gray eyes. “We both know if you just wanted a chat, you’d ring my sister. Who, by the way, is a little peeved that you missed the weekly get-together.”

Damn, so I had. Mom and Riley had met for coffee and cake every week for as long as I could remember, and it was a tradition Riley and I were determined to continue.

While I did have a good excuse—I’d still been in the process of recovering from the fights with both my sword and the Rakshasa, the spirit who’d answered the call of ghosts desperate for revenge at one of the blood whore clubs run by the high vampire council—I couldn’t exactly tell Riley that because she didn’t know about my connection with the vampire council. If she ever did find out about it, she’d hit the roof, not to mention shove me somewhere safe while she confronted Hunter and her cronies. And as strong as Riley, Quinn, and Rhoan were, I had a suspicion it would take more than the three of them to outmaneuver Hunter.

“You need to ring her,” Rhoan continued. “She’s worried. We’re both worried.”

“Then you need to not tell her so much about what’s happening.”

He snorted again. “Yeah, like that’s going to work. You know she can smell trouble a mile away.” He paused. “Okay, I have your location and will be there in twenty. Don’t disturb any evidence.”

“itt LT StdI won’t. See you soon.”

I shoved the phone back into my pocket, my gaze on Dorothy’s body. Why on earth would anyone go to so much trouble to destroy someone who was, it seemed, totally harmless? It made no sense, and part of me—a small, insane part—wanted to unravel the puzzle.

“Let your uncle find whoever is responsible for this,” Azriel said. “It is not something we should get involved in.”

“No, it isn’t.” I couldn’t help but look again at the woman’s face, though, and there was an unpleasant suspicion in my heart that this was far from over. “We’ve enough on our plate as it is.”

Including, I thought, with a glance at my watch, a date with a locker at Southern Cross Station in just over an hour.

I rubbed my arms, then scanned the immediate area. Rhoan might have warned me not to disturb any evidence, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t look. Besides, I needed to do something while I waited for him.

Water and trash lay everywhere, and the air was ripe with rotting rubbish and mold. The vaguest aroma of blood laced the thicker, more unpleasant scents in the room, but there was little else. If the stranger—or anyone else, for that matter—had been here, he had no distinct smell. Which went with his lack of a face, I guess.

“Someone was here,” Azriel commented. “The air still resonates with energy.”

I glanced at him. His blue eyes held echoes of the anger that burned within me. “Can you track it?”

He shook his head. “They used magic to leave.”

“And yet there’s no trace of magic on the ground.”

“Magic can take many forms. The charm around your neck, for example.”

“But this charm is minor magic compared to something that could transport a person.” My gaze went back to Dorothy and I studied the wounds on her wrists again. “How can there be no evidence of bleeding when she’s been bled out?”

“I do not know.”

I squatted next to the table. The concrete was thick with layers of grime and god knows what else, but the area underneath her hanging wrist bore a faint ring-shaped mark. The blood hadn’t been consumed—it had been collected.

Why would anyone want to do that? I glanced up at Azriel, but he merely shrugged. “I am not an expert on humans and all their eccentricities.”

“So the person behind this was human?”

“I would have sensed either a spirit or a demon.”

That the no-face stranger might be human somehow made him seem all the more creepy. I shivered, then rose and walked around the rest of the table. Other than a matching ring in the grime on the opposite side of the floor, there was little to see.

I retreated to a wall and sat down on the floor. God, if I didn’t get some food and rest soon, I was going to end up back in bed and sick as hell.

Azriel strolled around to my side of the table. “Shuffle forward.”

I raised an eyebrow, but did as ordered. He sat down behind me, then placed his fingers against my temples and began to gently massage them. Heat radiated from the epicenter of his touch, and the pain began to recede.

“Azriel,” I said, somewhat reluctantly, “I thought we agreed you shouldn’t be healing me. You’re the better fighter, so it’s more important that you keep your strength rather than sharing it with me—”

“If you can’t think and move, then me being the better fighter is irrelevant.” He paused, but his fingers continued to work their magic. “Besides, I can no longer fully heal you. I merely revive.”

“That’s splitting hairs and you know it.” Not that I wanted him to stop. It felt far too good—both his touch and the sense of reassurance it provided.

“Reviving does not require the same output of energy.”

I wasn’t believing that for an instant, but I let it slide, and asked instead, “I remember Tao saying something about your inability to heal—what’s gone wrong? You had no problems healing me previously.”

“I know.” He hesitated. “And I’m not exactly sure why this has happened.”

Liar. “It hasn’t got anything to do with Amaya’s presence, has it?”

“No. Your sword will never harm you.”

I snorted softly. “Then what do you call her attempt to gain control over my body?”

“An attempt to save your life. As she saw it, she was the stronger spirit, and therefore the logical choice to control your flesh.”

And I’d agreed to that control—temporarily. I wouldn’t have survived the onslaught of the Rakshasa otherwise. But once I was safe, Amaya had refused to leave my flesh, and it took every ounce of strength I’d had left to get her back into the sword. “Does that mean every time I’m feeling low she’s going to make a takeover bid?”

“Only if she believes your life would be in danger if she did not. And remember, you did invite the invasion.”

Something I will not be doing again. Not unless I’m at death’s door.

Ten minutes later, I sensed Rhoan’s approach. Azriel rose and held out a hand. I twined my fingers through the warmth of his, and he pulled me up. We ended up standing so close that my breasts touched his chest and his breath teased my mouth with possibilities. God, it would take only the slightest movement on either of our parts for our lips to meet, but as my eyes searched his, I knew he wouldn’t do it. Not this time, not yet. He was still fighting to delay the inevitable.

“Nothing is inevitable.” There was a huskiness in his voice that suggested his control was closer to the knife edge than I’d thought. “And you have no idea of the risk we run—”

Behind us someone cleared his throat, and I jumped as if stung. Rhoan walked toward us, amusement crinkling the corners of his gray eyes.

“Riley will be pleased,” he said.

No, she won’t, I thought grumpily. Not when I was having zero luck in getting Azriel back into bed—a problem she’d never had when it came to men, human or otherwise. I waved a hand at Dorothy’s body. “I haven’t touched her, and only went close enough to the table to check whether her blood had been collected or not.”

His gaze slipped to the woman on the table, and in the blink of an eye, he became the guardian rather than the uncle. It was a chilling change.

“What?” I said warily, knowing there had to be something more behind his reaction than merely this particular death.

“I’ve seen this before.”

I briefly closed my eyes. Of course he had. Why I’d thought this was a one-off murder I had no idea. “How many have there been?”

“Three in three days.” His expression was as intense and cold as his voice. “He normally contacts the Directorate an hour after the death.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Why would he do that?”

“To taunt us.” His gaze centered on me. “How did you get involved?”

I told him about the gray fields and what I’d witnessed there.

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t give us much to go on.” He paused, then added more severely, “You’re not intending to chase this one down yourself, are you?”

It was a warning more than a question, and I gave him a lopsided smile. “No. I’m not a guardian and have no desire to be.”

He grunted. “That’s the first sensible thing I’ve heard you say in weeks.”

“I can do sensible.”

“Really?” Rhoan’s tone was disbelieving. “This is the first evidence of it that I’ve seen, and I’ve known you a very long time.”

I punched him lightly—though it was like hitting a brick wall—and he grinned. “Go home and get some rest, Ris. You look beat.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You don’t need a statement?”

“Yeah, but later will do.”

“Thank you.” I dropped a kiss on his cheek, then left. Once we were outside, I raised my face to the sky. Though it was barely ten, the promise of heat was in the air, and sunshine bathed my skin. But it wasn’t warm enough to burn away the uneasy fear that had first stirred on the astral plane. The no-face killer wasn’t my problem, but I still couldn’t escape the notion that he and I would meet again. I had to hope that notion was wrong, because I needed to get back to the business of chasing down portal keys and deadly sorcerers.

“Do you wish to return home now?” Azriel asked softly.

“I wish I could.” Wished he would just take me in his arms and hold me. Just hold me.

But he didn’t react in any way—even though he could follo< could w my thoughts and knew my desires as clearly as if I’d spoken them—and I sighed softly. “But I need to collect my car from Adeline’s, and then we have that meeting at the rail station.”

“You should eat—”

I cut him off with an abrupt wave of the hand. “I’ll grab a burger and chips along the way.”

“That’s hardly what you need right now—”

“It’s food,” I cut in wearily. “And it’s better than nothing. You’re not my mom, so don’t nag me, Azriel.”

“Someone has to.” His blue eyes flashed with the annoyance he wasn’t quite containing. “Because you seem absurdly determined to run yourself into the ground.”

“And we can’t have that when there’s keys to be found, can we?”

“As I have said before,” he said coldly, “that is not a fair comment.”

I sighed. “Sorry.”

He once again accepted the apology with an almost regal incline of his head, then said, his tone still frosty, “You wish to go back to Adeline’s now?”

“Yes.”

He stepped close, and once more whisked us through the gray fields. Adeline jumped when we reappeared in her living room.

“Gracious,” she said, placing one hand on her heart. “You could at least give some warning before you pop into existence like that.”

“I thought you could sense reapers.” I stepped free from the warmth of Azriel’s arms, but distance did little to ease the fires his presence ignited. I picked up the cup of tea Adeline had poured earlier and gulped it down. I might not be fond of the stuff, but it was better than nothing.

“If they are on this plane, yes, but not before then.” She eyed me for a moment, then said, “You didn’t succeed in saving her.”

“No, but only because he didn’t keep his end of the bargain. He killed her too early.”

“He is a dark energy, so that can be expected.”

Stupid of me to expect otherwise, I suppose. “This isn’t his first kill, though. The Directorate is on the case.”

“At least you could provide a description—”

“No, I couldn’t,” I interrupted. Because he didn’t have a face on the fields.”

“That is unusual.” She frowned. “How indistinct were his features?”

“Totally—he had no facial features whatsoever. It was as if someone had completely erased them.”

“But that’s not possible.” She hesitated. “Well, obviously, it is, but it is extremely rare.”

“Why?” I asked curiously. “I mean, you can change your outward appearance, can’t you? Things like clothes, shoes, even hair color?”

“Yes, but it is almost impossible to change your actual features. Normally your spirit won’t allow it.”

“Well, this guy’s spirit did.” I paused, remembering the sensations that had rolled over me. “I actually felt him out there long before the woman screamed. It was as if the astral plane was rejecting his presence. It set up this really weird vibration.”

Adeline chewed her lip for a moment, then said, “And the woman? What was she actually doing?”

I described what I’d seen, then added, “The woman claimed they were having sex, but that sure as hell wasn’t what it looked like.” I paused. “Is it even possible to have sex on the astral plane?”

“It’s possible, but you have to be very careful about who and what you form such a connection with. Once you open that door, it may never close.”

I shivered. “Could this guy be some form of incubi?”

“Again, it’s possible, but both incubi and succubi tend to take physical advantage of us on this plane. It is rare for them to act on the astral plane.”

“Rare means it’s still possible.”

“Yes, but from what you described, he was not sexually interacting with the woman, despite what the woman believed.”

“Is there any way to stop him?”

“On the astral plane? Not that I’m aware of. I would think you’d have to find him in the real world.”

And that wasn’t going to be easy. Nor was it my job. Leave it to Rhoan, I reminded myself, and set the cup back down. “Thanks again for your help, Adeline.”

“No problem.” She escorted me to the door, then added, “I’m here if you need anything else.”

I gave her a smile and headed down the street to my SUV. The Toyota wasn’t my preferred mode of transport—that honor went to the silver Ducati I’d bought when RYT’s, the café I co-owned and ran with Ilianna and Tao, had made its first profit. Unfortunately, the Ducati and I had a serious parting of ways thanks to a pack of demons, and she was still in the shop getting repaired. She was an old bike, and her parts were hard to get, so I was going to be without her for a while. Which was why I was seriously considering buying another one. I preferred the feel and freedom of a bike as opposed to the sedate safety of a vehicle like the SUV. Even Tao’s Ferrari couldn’t give the high of the bike—not on Melbourne streets, anyway.

A breeze stirred the air, cooling the early-morning heat but doing little to ease the furnace-like intensity of the man who walked close behind me. Part of me wished I could ignore him, that we could just go back to the time when the attraction was muted and he was more antagonistic. More distant. But there was no way on earth to put that particular genie back in the bottle.

After a moment, I asked, “What did you mean before, when you said I had no idea of the risk we were running?”

“Just that. This attraction breaks all the rules—”

“Your rules, not mine.”<

“Yes.” He paused. “I thought we had agreed that we should—”

“No,” I snapped back. “You decided we should attempt to ignore this. I had no choice.”

“Because of the danger—”

“To whom?” I swung around and stabbed a finger into his chest. It felt like I was hitting steel. “Not to me, buddy boy, and don’t pretend otherwise. You’re protecting your ass here, not mine.”

“True.” His expression was as enigmatic as ever, and yet there was an undercurrent in the air that was both frustration and anger. At himself, at me, at the situation. “But you have no idea of the dangers I face.”

“No, because you won’t fucking explain them to me.” I glared at him for a moment, then shook my head and walked on. “You know what? Forget it. It’s not important.”

“If it wasn’t important, you would not be this angry.”

I snorted softly and just kept moving. He was silent until we got to the SUV, then appeared in the passenger seat.

“As I said before,” he commented, as I pulled out into the traffic, “the longer I remain in flesh form, the more I take on certain human characteristics.”

“So? It’s not like a little human emotion is going to destroy you or anything, is it?”

“That,” he said, his voice holding an edge that suggested he was barely holding on to his patience, “is where you are very wrong.”

I glanced at him sharply. “How the fuck is that even possible? I mean, emotion isn’t a physical force. Being emotional can’t destroy you.” I paused, then remembered Jak, the man I’d thought I would marry one day, and all the heartbreak he’d caused me. “Although sometimes it does feel like it can.”

“While gaining the emotions that come with flesh form is, of itself, not dangerous to us, the fact that you and I are connected at a chi level makes it so.”

I slowed down as the lights ahead went to red, then said, “Why?”

He hesitated. “A chi connection is a connection of life forces—”

“I’m well aware what a chi connection is,” I snapped. “Just tell me why you believe it’s so damn dangerous.”

He released a breath that was more a hiss. “It’s dangerous because it can lead to assimilation.”

I blinked. “Assimilation?”

“It happens when a reaper becomes so attuned to a particular human that their life forces merge, and they become as one.”

“No—”

“Yes,” he spat back. His expression was as grim as I’d ever seen it. “If that happens, my reaper powers will become muted, and I will never again be able to function as a soul bearer.”

“But you can still be a Mij heill be ai?”

“Yes. But this is not a position I wish to retain for eternity.” He glanced at me. “And I suspect you would not wish the connection between us to strengthen any further, or become permanent.”

“God, no.” I liked Azriel—a lot—but he wasn’t Mr. Long Term. And neither was my Aedh lover, Lucian. I wanted someone who was flesh and blood real, someone who could give me a family and a life on this plane.

The lights changed again, so I pressed the accelerator and continued. “Does that mean the attraction between us is a sign that we’re on the cusp of assimilation?”

“Possibly.” He looked away for a moment, studying the road ahead. “But it is never wise to play with fire.”

“We knew it wasn’t wise when we made love,” I commented. “It didn’t stop either of us.”

“No.” The ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “And as much as I cannot regret that moment, to continue down that path is to risk the link strengthening into assimilation.”

“Then you’re going to have to be the strong one, because I’m damn sure I won’t be.” I tried to envision being around him and not being able to touch him. It just wasn’t possible.

“If I was capable of such strength,” he said quietly, “there would not have been a first time.”

My gaze briefly met his. Deep in his differently colored blue eyes desire burned. He might be keeping it in check better than I was, but he definitely wasn’t as immune to my nearness as his actions sometimes led me to believe.

I swung onto Spencer Street and headed toward Southern Cross Station. “You do realize this decision of yours means that you can’t object to me being with Lucian. I may not be driven by the moon’s heat as most werewolves are, but I do have an above-average sex drive.”

I didn’t need to see his expression to know that his anger had just ratcheted up several notches. The force of it singed my skin and senses. “You know I do not trust the Aedh.”

Yeah, I did. Just like I knew that his distrust—hell, I’d even call it hatred—left him unable to even say Lucian’s name. It would have been amusing if it wasn’t so damn frustrating.

“And we both know,” I snapped back, “that your distrust stems more from the fact that I’m with him than from anything he’s actually done.”

For once, he didn’t dispute it. “I am not jealous, if that is what you are implying.”

“Then why do you have a problem with me being with him?”

“He is using you.”

“We’re using each other.”

“Yes, but his reasons are not what he states. He lies, Risa. I can taste it.”

“If he’s lying, then he’s doing it so well my internal radar isn’t picking it up.”

“He has been earthbound for many,ovend for many centuries. Have no doubt that he is well practiced in more than the art of sex.”

That, at least, was something we both agreed on. But it still didn’t mean Lucian was lying to me—or rather, I hoped it didn’t. I swung into the parking lot under the Flinders Street bridge and squeezed into a spot between one of the bridge stanchions and a large four-wheel drive.

I turned off the engine, then faced him. “You can’t have it both ways. Either you and I run the risk of assimilation, or you accept the fact that I will be with others. No more shitty aloofness.”

“The first is not an option, and the second will not be easy.”

“I didn’t think it would be.”

When he didn’t say anything else, I climbed out of the car and headed for the Southern Cross railway station. The building’s undulating roofline gleamed crisply in the bright sunshine and, as ever, reminded me of snow mounds—albeit snow mounds covered in pigeons and pigeon poop. A constant rush of people flowed in and out of the station, and the vast area under the unusual roof was filled with the sounds of chatter, footsteps, whistles, and trains.

I made my way through the interior to the main locker area, my footsteps slowing as I neared the doorway. I flared my nostrils, dragging in the air, and I couldn’t smell anything out of the ordinary. But I hadn’t the last time I was here, either, and that time two Razan—the human slaves of the Aedh—had been waiting for me.

“Anything?” I asked softly.

Azriel shook his head. “There is no human or non-human life within.”

“Which doesn’t mean there isn’t a trap waiting inside.”

“No.” He paused. “There is no sense of magic, however.”

“That’s something, I guess.”

I considered the doorway for a few seconds longer, then took a deep breath to fortify my nerves and headed in. The locker room was large and the air cool. There were two rows of cream-colored lockers in the center of the room, while more lockers lined the walls. The one I wanted sat about midway along the central locker row. I dug the little key out of my pocket and walked toward them. Trepidation crawled across my skin. Nothing, no one, was here, and yet every sense I had tingled.

My fingers shook as I opened the door. It was a stupid and illogical response given everything I’d survived over the last couple of weeks, but I just couldn’t help it. I feared my father. Feared him more than the Raziq themselves, even though he’d done little more than threaten me and my friends if I didn’t comply with his wishes.

And his threats were nothing compared to what the Raziq had actually done—they’d torn me apart, placed a tracker in the fabric of my heart, and then rebuilt me.

Perhaps that was the problem. I knew what the Raziq were capable of, and I knew what they wanted. Hell, I knew what Azriel, the Mijai, and even the vampire council wanted from me. But my father’s motives were little more than murk. All I could be sure of was that what he said he wanted and what he actually planned were two entirely different thingss.ferent s.

It was the not knowing that scared the shit out of me. That, and the intuition that he could be far more dangerous than the Raziq as a whole ever could be.

The locker door swung open, revealing a totally empty interior. No letter, nothing to indicate what he wanted or what I was supposed to do next. It didn’t make sense. Why send me here if he didn’t intend to leave instructions?

“What the fuck is going—”

The rest of the sentence died in my throat, because it suddenly felt like someone had a hand around my heart and was threatening to squeeze the life out of me.

And hot on the heels of that came the awareness of an approaching presence. Only it wasn’t body heat I sensed, wasn’t humanity, but rather the heat of a being that was all energy, all power.

An Aedh.

My father, to be precise.